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‘Because of sex’ approach to protecting trans people

Many analyses of Bostock decision missed the real history

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(Washington Blade file photo by Michael Key)

“Here, I thought, looking around me, is where it all changed, because I was still too young to understand that history is not simply made up of moments of triumph strung together like pearls. I didn’t know that large changes were made up of many small ones, and of moments of suffering and backsliding and incremental, selective progress; unnecessary sacrifices and the opportunistic, privileged and lucky walking forward over the vulnerable and the dead.” —Carmen Maria Machado

The road to LGBTQ equality has been long and winding, made up, legally, of two paths — sex (gender) stereotyping and “because of . . . sex.” Until the Bostock decision last month we had a quantum mechanical, “Schrödinger’s Cat” causal conundrum — would the decision be based on “sex” as written in Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, or “sex stereotyping” as developed in the landmark 1989 Price Waterhouse v. Hopkins Supreme Court decision? Many guessed it would be the former, “because of . . . Gorsuch” and his penchant for textualism, but that didn’t stop plaintiff Aimee Stephens’ lawyer, David Cole, from arguing with the latter. Turns out it was the former, but before I trace the social history of that path, I would like to point out a delicious irony.

It’s long been understood that the modern Supreme Court rarely leads, and usually follows, public opinion. That opinion is shaped by the people, and primarily by the people’s activist corps. In the case of the gay rights movement, the people universally known through the 1960s as homosexuals became known in the 70s as gay people. Why? Because the “sex” in “homosexual” directed one’s gaze to sex acts, which is still what most Americans conjure in their minds when they hear the word “sex.” And since many were repelled by the thought of gay sex, it became evident a different, de-sexed, label was necessary.

Similarly with the trans community, which had been universally known as the transsexual community through the 1980s, and which de-sexed “transsexual” to “transgender” in the ‘90s (the first national trans rights group, founded by Riki Wilchins and Denise Norris in 1993, was called “Transexual Menace,” and the second, was the “National Transgender Advocacy Coalition,” in 1999), and then finally just the single syllable “trans” in the aughts, to match the single syllable, “gay.” Language matters. Just as Americans viewed homosexual people through the lens of their sex acts, they viewed transsexual people the same way, often reduced to sex workers and homicidal maniacs (“Dallas Buyer’s Club,” 2013 and Hitchcock’s classic, “Psycho,” 1960).

So, today, gay and trans individuals have their employment rights, and soon full protections with the Equality Act next year, because of a return to the modern source of those rights, the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and “because of . . . sex.” Not gender, but sex, and, refreshingly so, but devoid of any implications of sexual activity. Justice Gorsuch, interestingly, returned to using the archaic term “homosexual” throughout his opinion, but did not revert to “transsexual,” and treated Ms. Stephens respectfully in his comments.

How did we get here? In the weeks following the decision many of the analyses of the decision missed the real history. That history is written by the victors, but it also very much matters which victors do the writing.

The path of “because of . . .” and “but for” sex began in the 60s, as Justice Gorsuch mentioned: Not long after the law’s passage, gay and transgender employees began filing Title VII complaints, so at least some people foresaw this potential application.

Trans persons won some lower court decisions in the ‘70s, before the religious and feminist backlash began in 1979 with Janice Raymond and then the Reaganites. Trans plaintiffs lost in the late ‘70s and ‘80s because transsexualism was not recognized as a form of sex (Holloway v. Arthur Andersen, 1977, Sommers v. Budget Marketing, 1982 and Ulane v. United Airlines, 1984). And then, in 1989, came Price Waterhouse v. Hopkins, and the landscape utterly changed for trans plaintiffs.

The first, and until Bostock, only SCOTUS decision (and victory) for a trans plaintiff occurred in 1994, in a unanimous Eighth Amendment decision written by Justice Souter on behalf of the plaintiff, a black trans woman, Dee Farmer. The next federal appeals court case, and the first in a string of victories leading to Bostock, was Smith v. City of Salem in 2004, won on both sex and sex stereotyping concerns, followed by another Sixth Circuit case, Barnes v. City of Cincinnati in 2005. Philecia Barnes was also a black trans woman and she won “because of sex.” The only hiccup in this long chain of victories was Etistty v. Utah Transit Authority in the 10th Circuit in 2007. This was followed in rapid succession by the blockbusters: Schroer v. Billington, 2008; Glenn v. Brumby, 2011; and Macy v. Holder, 2012.

It was the unanimous Macy decision at the EEOC, led by Commissioner Chai Feldblum, that protected trans persons in all 50 states, and cemented the “because of sex” approach to protecting trans persons. Professor Feldblum, a major author of the 1991 Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), had been living in Takoma Park, Md., in Montgomery County in 2007-08 when I led the campaign for Basic Rights Montgomery to pass and defend the county gender identity law. That law generated the first bathroom bill backlash in the United States, and Professor Feldblum, who had been a believer in the doctrine that trans status was a function of sex and, therefore, covered by Title VII, was further encouraged to pursue it if she ever got her chance in the federal government to make it a reality. Presciently, these were her words 20 years ago: “But a strict textualist approach might work as well (or even better) for those seeking to achieve broad protection for gay people and transgender people. Under such an approach, the intent of the enacting Congress (or state legislature) is not as important as the words the legislature chose to use.”

It had been obvious to me, as well, as I had been teaching and lobbying for years on the medical basis of transsexualism being rooted in brain sex. Research begun in 1995 had been making that very plain. But few LGBTQ attorneys, with the notable exception of Katie Eyer, believed in the possibility of progressive textualism, even though the Constitution is the product of the Enlightenment.

So after being nominated by President Obama to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) and confirmed by the Senate, Professor Feldblum looked for the right case and found it in Mia Macy. She then did the same for David Baldwin in the first national gay rights victory, Baldwin v. Foxx, in 2015.

Just looking at these cases it was clear that the federal courts (and some state courts as well) were beginning to respect trans persons enough, including black trans women, beginning in the ‘90s to not only not summarily throw them out of court, but to seriously apply the “because of sex” and sex stereotyping arguments to them. All that at a time when fewer than 8% of Americans (in a 2013 poll) admitted to knowing a trans person; when gay people, far better represented in the media and known in their communities, were routinely failing in federal court. Yet there have been post-Bostock analyses by highly respected civil rights lawyers that turn this history on its head. For example, Shannon Minter, the trans attorney for the National Center for Lesbian Rights (NCLR), said: “We’ve always known that our legal arguments are strong and should be accepted, but the reason it took decades for the courts to accept these arguments was because transgender people were so foreign to the courts.”

This is not the first time. After promoting the trans legal case “because of sex” for years, I tried to get the national LGBTQ, and particularly trans, organizations to recognize our success post-Macy. They would have none of it. The lawyers at HRC, the National LGBT Task Force, and even NCTE, the National Center for Transgender Equality on whose board I sat, refused to acknowledge the breakthroughs. To get the word out I had to publish a pamphlet, with attorney Jillian Weiss and activist Riki Wilchins, which was promoted by Masen Davis and the Transgender Law Center, the only nationally oriented trans group willing to get on board. We were also supported by Tico Almeida and Freedom to Work.

Fortunately, thousands of trans persons got the message, and filed claims with the EEOC. Many won, with most settling out of court because, you know, the law matters. Yet others have lived the past eight years in fear and anxiety because our institutions’ lawyers repeatedly said that we had no protections without a decision of the Supreme Court. I countered that it would take years, or might never happen because we were winning all our cases, and without a split at the appeals court level the Court might not even take up the issue. Fortunately for us today, SCOTUS rolled us into the Circuit split on the gay rights cases (Bostock and Zarda), and we pulled the gay community along to victory. No gays left behind. We had not lost a Circuit Appeals case since 2007, the only one in the 21st century, so I, for one, was not surprised.

People who are committing themselves to activism need to understand the history so as to most effectively pursue their goals in the future. LGBTQ folks need to understand the bureaucratic resistance within their own movements, from the most well-meaning people. It is, indeed, always a long and winding road to liberty and equality.

Dana Beyer is a longtime D.C.-based advocate for transgender equality.

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Opinions

Response to a personal attack against me

Writers should stick to facts and reason

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(Photo by sqback/Bigstock)

I was disappointed when the Blade didn’t publish my response to a personal attack on me in a column by Hayden Gise, in last week’s print edition. They did publish it online. To be clear, I have no problem with people disagreeing with my columns and opinions. That is absolutely fair. But when they get into personal attacks, it often means they don’t have enough to say about the ideas they are trying to criticize. 

In a recent column ‘Why the Democratic Socialists of America are right for D.C.,’ the author decided to attack me personally. Here is the response I wrote to her column: 

“I am responding to a column by Hayden Gise who says in her column she is a transgender, lesbian, Jewish, Democratic Socialist, and supports having the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) in Washington, DC. She is definitely as entitled to her view on this, as I am to mine. However, I was surprised she clearly felt it important to use the column to attack me personally, without even knowing me. What she didn’t do is respond to the issues in the DSA platform I wrote having a problem with, and which I asked candidates endorsed by the DSA to respond to. 1. Are they for the abolishment of the State of Israel? 2. What is their definition of a Zionist? 3. What is their definition of antisemitism? 4. Will they meet with Zionist organizations? 5. Do they support BDS? One needs to know when a candidate claims they are only a member of the local DSA, according to the DSA bylaws no person can be a member of a local DSA without being a member of the national organization. So Hayden Gise has a little better idea of who I am she should know: I was a teacher and a union member. I worked for the most progressive member of Congress at the time, Bella S. Abzug (D-N.Y.), and supported her when she introduced the Equality Act in 1974, to protect the rights of the LGBTQ community, and have fought for its passage ever since. I have spent a lifetime fighting for civil rights, women’s rights, disability rights, and LGBTQ rights. I have no idea what Hayden Gise’s background is, or what her history of working for the causes she espouses is. But I would be happy to meet with her to find out. But she should know, I take a back seat to no one in the work I have done over my life fighting for equality, including economic equality, for all. So, I will not attack her, as I don’t know her, and contrary to her, don’t personally attack people I don’t know much about. 

“I have, and will continue to attack, what the government of Israel is doing to the Palestinian people, and now to those in Lebanon and Iran. I will also attack the government of my own country, and the felon in the White House, and his sycophants in Congress, for what they are doing to our own people, and people around the world, and will continue to work hard to change things. However, I will also continue to stand for a two-state solution with the continued existence of the State of Israel, calling for a different government in Israel. I also strongly support the Palestinian people and believe they must have the right to their own free state.”

I have not heard from Gise, but I hope she knows that since she wrote her column indicating her support for Janeese Lewis George for mayor, her preferred candidate has attended a birthday party to celebrate a person who still refers to gay people as ‘fags.’   

We should not personally attack people we don’t know as a way to criticize their views on an issue. Once again, I have no problem with people disagreeing with what I write, and having the Blade publish those contrary columns. But a plea to all who disagree with any columnist, or story: disagree with the issues and refrain from making personal attacks on the writer. That actually takes away from whatever point you are trying to make. 


Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist. 

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Opinions

Science said stop; the Supreme Court said no

What Chiles v. Salazar means for LGBTQ health

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(Washington Blade file photo by Michael Key)

Imagine if researchers found that coffee drinking increased your risk of death by more than 50%. The public health response would be immediate – regulations, warnings, a swift mobilization of policy to match the evidence. We would act, because protecting people from documented harm is what evidence-based policy exists to do.

The same logic is why Colorado banned conversion therapy. The science was clear: research from The Trevor Project and others shows that exposure to conversion therapy increases suicidal ideation among LGBTQ+ youth, and more than doubles suicide attempts for transgender youth. Every major medical organization in the country – the American Medical Association, the American Psychological Association, and the American Academy of Pediatrics – has condemned the practice. 

Colorado looked at the evidence and did what public health is supposed to do. It intervened. 

On March 31, 2026, the Supreme Court struck down that intervention 8-1 in the Chiles v. Salazar case, ruling that conversion therapy is protected speech.

This decision should alarm anyone who believes that science has a role in protecting human lives. The court did not dispute evidence. It did not produce contradicting research or question the methodology of the studies Colorado relied on. Instead, it decided that the ideological underpinnings of conversion therapy deserve more constitutional protection than the children being harmed by it. In doing so, it severed the fundamental link between what science tells us is dangerous and what the law is willing to prohibit. 

That severance has consequences far beyond Colorado, as Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson noted in her dissent. More than 20 states and Washington, D.C. have enacted conversion therapy bans. The court majority’s reasoning – that regulating talk-based practices constitutes censorship – hands challengers a blueprint. The scientific consensus that built those protections did not change on March 31, but its power to hold them in place did.

For LGBTQ+ public health researchers like us, this ruling is a reckoning. And a personal one. Both of us came to public health because it offered a way to ask questions that matter: How can we help people live safe, healthy, and happy lives?

As a Ph.D. student and an assistant professor focused on LGBTQ+ health, we have been energized by the possibility that rigorous research could inform policies that protect LGBTQ+ people. The Chiles v. Salazar ruling forces us to recognize something uncomfortable: the possibility of research driving policy is real, but it is not automatic. Evidence reaches policy only when researchers advocate to put it there. As it turns out, scientific evidence itself is not enough. 

This means the work of LGBTQ+ health researchers cannot stop at the journal article. It has to extend into the spaces where policy is actually made and public opinion is actually influenced. Researchers must work alongside educators, communicators, and community organizers to make evidence impossible to ignore or misrepresent. 

As Sylvia Rivera observed in 1971, “our family and friends have also condemned us because of their lack of true knowledge.” More than 50 years later, misinformation about conversion therapy, gender-affirming care, and LGBTQ+ health still fills the gap that researchers leave when they stay silent.

We also want to say this directly to LGBTQ+ young people: Science has not abandoned you. The evidence of your worth, your health, and your right to be protected is overwhelming and it is not going anywhere. The researchers, clinicians, and advocates who built that evidence are still here and still working to ensure it translates into the protection you deserve. 

The Chiles v. Salazar ruling is a serious setback. But it is not the end of the argument.

Science has shown us how conversion therapy causes harm. It has shown us clearly, repeatedly, and with the backing of every credible medical institution in the country. The Supreme Court chose to look away. The only response to that is to make looking away harder. To build a public, cross-sector, science-informed movement that refuses to let evidence be sidelined when lives are on the line.

The evidence is on our side. Now, we have to make sure it counts.


Vincenzo Malo is a Health Services Ph.D. student at the University of Washington’s School of Public Health who studies affirming health systems. Dr. Harry Barbee is an assistant professor in the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health whose research focuses on LGBTQ+ health, aging, and public policy.

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Eswatini

The emperor has no clothes: how rhetoric fuels repression in Eswatini

King Mswati III’s anti-LGBTQ comments can have deadly consequences

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King Mswati III (Screen capture via Eswatini TV/YouTube)

In an absolute monarchy, the words spoken by the sovereign can swiftly become a baton striking a citizen. When King Mswati III speaks, his words do not simply drift into the air as political “opinion”; they often quickly turn into, sometimes violently, state policy. This reflects the reality of Eswatini, where the right to freedom of expression, including the right to hold dissenting political views, is increasingly being systematically eroded by the very voice that claims to uphold “traditional values.”

To understand the current crisis facing the LGBTIQ+ community in Eswatini, one must view it through the lens of a broader strategy: the weaponization of culture to justify the erosion of democratic institutions, the rule of law, and human rights protections. As observed across Africa, from the streets of Harare and Dar es Salaam to the parliamentary courtrooms of Dakar and Kampala, African leaders are increasingly using the marginalised as an entry point to dismantle civil society. In Eswatini, this strategy has manifest its most brutal expression in the king’s recent harmful rhetoric concerning sexual orientation and gender identity.

The danger of the king’s words lies in how the state apparatus interprets them as a divine mandate for persecution. Recently, we have seen this “Rhetoric-to-Policy Pipeline” operate with chilling efficiency. Shortly after the Minister of Education made public vitriol against the existence of LGBTIQ+ students, reports emerged of children being expelled from schools. In a country where the king is culturally and traditionally called the “ingwenyama” (the lion), the bureaucracy acts as his pride; when leadership suggests that a particular group is “un-African” or “deviant,” the machinery of the state, along with the emboldened segments of the public, moves to purge that group from society.

For an openly gay man who has dedicated most of his adulthood to advancing equality and dignity for all, especially marginalized communities, these are not merely policy changes; they pose existential threats. When a powerful leader speaks, they offer a moral shield for the dogmatist and a legal roadmap for the policeman. In Eswatini, where political parties are banned, and the “tinkhundla” system (constituency-based system) — a system that systematically silences dissent and favors those aligned with the sovereign — is celebrated as the sole “authentic” form of governance, any identity that falls outside the narrow, state-defined “tradition” is seen as treason. By branding LGBTIQ+ rights as “ungodly” and essentially unwelcome in Eswatini, the monarchy effectively views the mere existence of queer Swazis as a subversive act against the crown.

The most harrowing example of this pattern is the assassination of human rights lawyer Thulani Maseko in January 2023. Maseko’s murder did not happen in isolation. It followed a period of heated rhetoric directed at those calling for democratic reforms. The king had publicly warned those demanding change that they would face consequences. On the evening after the king had said, “[t]hese people started the violence first, but when the state institutes a crackdown on them for their actions, they make a lot of noise blaming King Mswati for bringing in mercenaries,” Maseko was shot dead at his home in front of his family.

The parallel here is unmistakable. When the king targets the LGBTIQ+ community with his words, he is aiming at the most vulnerable. If a world-renowned human rights lawyer can be silenced following royal condemnation, what chance does a queer youth in a rural area stand when the king’s words reach the local chief or school head? This is what I call “Chaos as Governance”: a state where the law is replaced by the monarch’s whims, leaving the population in a constant cycle of managed chaos that renders collective opposition nearly impossible. Despite strong condemnation from the organization I founded, Eswatini Sexual and Gender Minorities (ESGM), recent reports already suggest growing support for the rhetoric shared by the king, indicating treacherous weeks and months ahead for ordinary queer people in Eswatini.  

The monarchy’s defense of these actions is almost always based on “African tradition.” As Mswati has shown, the ban on political parties and the suppression of minority rights are framed as a return to indigenous governance, the “tinkhundla” system. But we must ask: whose culture is being defended? Is it a culture that historically valued communal care and diverse social roles, or is it a modern, imported authoritarianism cloaked in the robes of the ancestors?

When he uses his platform at the “sibaya” (traditional gathering) to alienate a segment of his own people, he is not engaging in dialogue; he is delivering a monologue of exclusion. This weaponized version of culture serves a dual purpose. First, it offers a “neocolonial” defense against international criticism, portraying human rights as a foreign threat. Second, it creates an internal enemy, the “terrorist” political dissident or the “immoral” LGBTIQ+ person, to distract from the fact that nearly two-thirds of the population live below the poverty line. In contrast, the royal family resides in obscene luxury, acquiring fleets of expensive vehicles.

The silence of Eswatini’s neighbors worsens its situation. The Southern African Development Community (SADC), a regional organization ostensibly committed to democracy and human rights, has repeatedly allowed Mswati to evade accountability. By agreeing to remove Eswatini from the Organ Troika agenda at the king’s request in 2024, SADC sent a message to every authoritarian in the region. If you conceal your repression behind the guise of tradition, we will not intervene.

The call for freedom of expression, including LGBTIQ+ rights, is a fundamental human right vital for safety and dignity. It demands that a child should not be expelled from school because of who they are. It insists that a lawyer should not be murdered for expressing their beliefs. It states that a king’s word should not be a death sentence. We must resist the “politics of distraction” that portrays the fight for minority rights as separate from the fight for democratic reform. The dissolution of political parties in Burkina Faso, the attack on lawyers in Zimbabwe, and the criminalization of advocacy in Senegal, Tanzania, and Uganda are all parts of the same pattern. They reflect a leadership class that fears its own people.

It is time for the African Union and SADC to decide whether to uphold the ideals of their lofty charters or to prioritize political convenience across Africa. For the people of Eswatini, improving livelihoods and human development can only occur when the king’s words are limited by a constitution that protects every citizen, regardless of whom they love or how they pray. Until then, the chaos is not a failure; it is the purpose. The monarch’s word may be law today, but the universal right to dignity is the only law that will endure. We must demand an Eswatini, and by extension, an Africa that seeks to improve the lives of its people, and where the “lion” protects all his people, rather than hunting those he deems “unworthy” of the shade.

Melusi Simelane is the founder and board chair of Eswatini Sexual and Gender Minorities. He is also the Civic Rights Program Manager for the Southern Africa Litigation Center.

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